My boy, My little Boy
by AmandaUhidir
Summary: A one shot of the day the One of the Potter Twins received their Hogwarts Acceptance Letters with an interesting ending twist. With the Wrong!Boy-Who-Lived, Abusive!Potters, Slight Dumbledore, Black and Lupin bashing but a loving Grandma Potter, the day is sure to be interesting.


I'ts ironic in a way how my life has turned out. My brother loved by all and held high as an example of what all wizards should strive to be. I hated by all that should have loved me. At first the werewolf, Lupin, had tried to protect me but he was not strong enough to stand by his convictions when threatened with the severance of his friendship with my father. The weakling.

The dog, my own Godfather, had forgotten about me. He never came to check on me; for all he knew I was dead.

My mother, a lovely flower name but not a lovely person, had decided I was not worthy of her affection or her attention. If I tried when I was younger to tell her I loved her, I would be met with a slap to the face. I was taking up to much time from her lovely little boy, the Boy-Who-Lived.

My father - an arrogant, ignorant, has-been auror. The only reason he hadn't been fired yet was because of my brother's fame. Oh, how little did they know.

Why am I so unloved? Why because of an imbecile who thought he knew it all – Dumbledore. I could mess up his name, but why put in the effort? He wasn't worth my time.

My name is Harry Potter and I am the twin brother of the Boy-Who-Lived. Little does everyone know, but he is in fact a squib. A squib with no distinguishing features. You might cry out," but his accidental magic is spectacular!" But in reality, it's my magic making the things happen. I look forward I want the day he doesn't receive his letter to be a patronus memory day. People call him the boy who lived when in fact he just lay there on his fat arse when Lord Voldemort came to kill us. I didn't want to die, it wasn't my time so I conjured up a mirror to reflect the spell back at him. Unbelievable for a toddler? Not for one with an IQ of 220.

My name is Harry Potter. I am a genius with near Merlin levels of Magic. I am the eldest son of Lily and James Potter. Sirius Black is my sworn Godfather. I am heir to the Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses of Potter, Black, Perevelle, and Ravenclaw. I've been locked in this cupboard for 9 years and today my freedom arrives.

I hear a thundering at the front door of my oh-so-dear family's manor. It is my brother's birthday and he hasn't received his invitation to Hogwarts yet. I hear desperate voices rise as my parents try to deny reality – their little prince is a squib. They beg Dumbledore to re-cast the spell to check his core size. An spell that is impossible to correctly cast on children before their 11th birthday. They deny and deny but in the end it will always be the same. I wonder if they'll remember me. Me the child they decided was taking attention away from their precious little boy. I was once their precious little boy. Dumbledore asks about me, he has my letter. My parents hem and haw before he loses his temper with them. That's a first.

Footsteps approach my cupboard and I smile. It's time for my big scene. I try to straighten up and dust off my robes. It wouldn't do to not look proper.

The footsteps stop outside my door and I hear a whispered, "here?" Slowly my door starts to open. I look up at the face of Albus Dumbledore. My face aches as I try to smile up at him. But I've forgotten important information. I cannot smile. I am dead. Have been for a while My spirit hovers over my body as I watch Dumbledore berate my loving father and mother for killing me. Madame Bones has called the Aurors and is taking photos. I'm trying to look my best for her, but I've already started to decompose.

My spirit is finally at rest. I've had my big scene. I've been offered a second chance, but I won't take it. Who would I go back to save from the future I've seen? My abusive family? My weak werewolf "uncle"? My oath-breaker Godfather? The innocent men and women of the wizarding world?They chose their savior long ago, and unfortunately he won't be able to help them at all.

I turn to look at the light that has been growing closer, Grandma Dory has finally come to take me home. They've noticed her coming closer watch her warily. She offers her hand out and I reach out to grasp it – becoming visible in the process. She bends on one knee and hugs me for all she's worth as a single tear falls down her face.

"My boy, my little boy" she cries softly as stands up and we walk off, hand in hand, to the next great adventure.


End file.
